


The Cereal Aisle

by My_Black_Crimson_Rose6



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Slow Romance, Trans Male Character, Trans!Tucker, carwash siblings, mute character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 02:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3878704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6/pseuds/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The blond’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he too sighed, relaxing ever the slightest now that Tucker wasn’t going to tear him apart. “I would go for Honeycombs; they don’t go soggy as fast and they still taste pretty damn amazing. It’s pretty good for a sugary breakfast meal.” Junior’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward in the cart, his dark blue eyes pleading up at his Father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cereal Aisle

**Author's Note:**

> I may in fact re-visit this and most likely go into more detail on Wash’s life. Everyone from Freelancer used to work in military. Maine’s accident still happened, some of the A.I make appearances in this as their children. All is well!
> 
> I’ve casually stuck a bit of artist!Wash into this (because that’s what he is in this) but I didn’t get to big on the whole thing. It was over 3K words and there’s a bunch of headcanon ideas i have for this that I have to totally write either a second chapter or a second part.
> 
> Prompt on Tumblr: "Tuckington with Trans!Tucker" 
> 
> I had a lot of fun with this prompt, thank you so much for this. If I wrote anything in sensitive or ANYTHING problematic please tell me and if there is a way for me to fix it. I want to make sure that I do right with this story.
> 
> (I need to further edit this story. Give me a bit, I'm still catching mistakes that missed my first couple a read-throughs)

Tucker was having an absolutely horrible week and all he wanted to do was get Junior and himself home and start cooking dinner before he no longer felt like cooking. That wouldn’t be difficult either, Tucker _hated_ cooking but had to because of his son. It wasn’t just him, it was never _just him._ Not since his Father threw them out (against both Mum and Grandmama’s wishes and arguments), and while both the women in his family made an effort to help pay as much as they could for him it was still too much for a twenty-three year old to handle sometimes.

Tiny fingers tapped against his hand and Tucker smiled down at his five year old son sitting in the shopping cart, **Daddy are you okay?** He signed quickly, his deep blue eyes mirroring his Father’s feelings—sad, conflicted, a little bit annoyed.

 **Daddy’s just been having an off week, monkey.** Tucker quickly signed back. Work had dragged on that day and while he had tomorrow to look forward to (his only day off from both jobs) he would be working at the club that weekend with Caboose running security on the floor—working with Caboose was a _pleasure_ to say the least.

Father and son strolled through the aisles with their forest green shopping cart; Junior was pointing to some Lucky Charms with a pleading look his eyes. **Can I?** He signed adding to his overly large pout.

A snort sounded from further down the aisle and Tucker whirled towards the sound—a white man with wheat blond hair and more freckles to count stood there with the back of his hand covering his mouth. Tucker would later go on to blame the shit week he was having for reacting as hostile as he was; “what the hell are you staring at?” He glared at the man. “Gonna say that I’m too young for a kid? I’m an irresponsible Father for having a child so young? ‘Cause fuck you and the horse—”

The white man shook his hands out in front of him, “no no! That’s not what I was thinking at all!” His neck, ears and cheeks were flustered; gray-blue eyes looking at Tucker then looking away then back. “I didn’t mean to seem rude or anything—I… that wasn’t my intention. I-I just thought,” he ran his hand over his face and up into his hair and down to his neck. “I just thought the two of you and your interaction was… adorable.”

Tucker gaped at the man shifting from foot to foot in front of him then to his son who tilted his head at the man. Okay, so maybe Tucker should give this man a few more minutes of his time. He was cute and obviously flustered because of the whole situation; he didn’t seem like he wanted to pick a fight. Tucker dropped his shoulders and sighed, “Okay dude. Shoot, what do you want?”

The blond’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he too sighed, relaxing ever the slightest now that Tucker wasn’t going to tear him apart. “I would go for Honeycombs; they don’t go soggy as fast and they still taste pretty damn amazing. It’s pretty good for a sugary breakfast meal.” Junior’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward in the cart, his dark blue eyes pleading up at his Father.

 **We’ll talk about this,** Tucker signed to him and the five year old grinned returned his gaze to the blond haired stranger.

The stranger shrugged, “or you can stick to your healthy choices.” He made eye with Junior and quickly signed, **you can add a bunch of sugar to it. Makes everything taste better**. His signing was quick and fluid like he had been using the language for the better part of his life.

Junior grinned at the stranger and Tucker could only blink.

The stranger points somewhere behind him, “I’m just going to go before the two of you start fighting about breakfast foods—um, I’m sorry again I truly didn’t mean for anything negative. I-yeah, I’m just going to go.” The man turned on his heel and quickly walked away.

Junior tapped on his Father’s hand and when the man finally glanced down Junior signed, **I like him.**

 **You only like him because he told you about more junk food.** Tucker shot back raising his brow and pursing his lips.

 **He can sign too!** And okay, Junior had him on that one.

\--

The second time they ran into the man from the grocery store he was at the park; Tucker had just picked Junior up from his afterschool day care program and Junior _swore_ that he wasn’t hungry yet and if he could play at the park for an hour he’d eat all his vegetables without a fight. And well, if that meant that Tucker wouldn’t fight with his kid for one night about veggies then he’d take it. Plus, playing meant easy bedtime.

The man had a sketchbook perched on his lap and a child’s Hello Kitty backpack against his leg—but the best part, the best part was the deep purple tiara perched on top of his wheat blond hair. Tucker couldn’t help but smile, “nice bling,” the man’s head snapped up from his doodling and his gray-blue eyes blinked owlishly up the man. Tucker pointed to his own head and the blond’s brows furrowed, reaching up to his own head to touch whatever _bling_ was present.

The blond’s eyes widened, “ah.” His cheeks coloured and he quickly flipped his sketchbook closed, pushing it into the Hello Kitty bag over filling with a lunch bag, colouring books, and what Tucker can only assume was homework. “My nephew likes to pretend that he’s rescuing me from dragons or other bad guys,” the blond threw a lopsided grin up at the other man.

Tucker nodded, taking the seat beside him on the bench. “So which one is yours?” He nodded towards the play structure while tying/pulling his dreads up into a high ponytail—he had to pull it back under a hairnet while working the day job and it was always easier to stuff under the net when it was in a bun.

The blond pointed to the little boy in a purple, black and pink skateboarding helmet with custom cat ears on top. “That would be Theta,” the kid was bouncing around in circles clapping his hands and pointing to a bunch of things while Junior nodded. “He’s a sweet kid, a little on the nervous side, a lot on the eccentric.  But he’s a sweetheart who couldn’t hurt a fly.” The blond smiled at his seat partner.

Tucker huffed, watching the helmet wearing kid grab hold of his son’s hand and lead him towards the monkey bars. He would turn and ask Junior questions, and he’d either nod or shake his head in answer to most of them. “I haven’t introduced myself,” Tucker turned his gaze from the two children to the man seated beside him. “Lavernius Tucker, though everyone calls me Tucker.”

The blond took his outstretched hand and shook it, “David Washington. I’m fond of being called Wash for short.” Wash had scars all over his face and neck, Tucker had noticed before but sitting here—as close as he was—they were clear on the sun kissed skin and freckles face. “Soo,” he turned his attention back to the park, “how did that breakfast argument go?”

Tucker laughed, “He’s fallen in love with Honeycombs and I’m blaming you for all of it!”

They conversed like that for nearly a half an hour, the topics light a few laughs thrown in. They would look at each other before looking back to the children who had gathered a group to play a Rescue the Princess game—Theta pointed to _Princess Wash_ and his lovely purple tiara, the man wiggled his fingers and swooned dramatically against Tucker’s side.

“Oh help, that horrible dragon had gone and stolen me and this lovely young prince! Help us before he plans to eat us, or _worse_! He’ll make us _marry!_ ” Wash had exclaimed and all the children gasped and eww’d at the thought of marriage. They had quickly divided themselves up into groups, some labeling themselves as the Bad Guys and the others were the Good People (there were three young girls who didn’t want to be calls guys so Theta being the head Knight in charge of the Goods declared them to be the Awesome Warriors of Goodness) and so an epic battle began.

“You don’t mind him calling you a princess?” Tucker couldn’t help but ask.

Wash shrugged, “he has a lot of kickass Aunts and they’re all big on the whole ‘girls can kick ass better than boys’ stuff that if Theta wants to go and compare me to one of their princess-y ways I’m just going to take it as a compliment and live to see my testicles another day.” He shook his head at the metal image, “if Texas hears anything close to me saying I don’t want to wear this _pretty-pretty_ crown she’d remove my bits and wear them like a necklace.”

Tucker grimaced; at both the name and the threat. “Yeah that sounds like Church’s Texas alright,” he nodded somberly. Wash’s head shriveled around to stare at him in shock, “yeah I know Texas—unfortunately. My roommate Church is kinda… well, on again off again dating her so I see her often enough.”

It was shortly after that that Tucker and Junior had to leave for home. The hour was up and it was time for the kid to make good on his promise to eat all his vegetables.

\--

It was getting ridiculous. Tucker kept running into Washington everywhere—he came into the bistro during the day to get a sandwich while Tucker was working, he ran into him at the grocery store again with Junior (his kid asked him if there was any other awesome cereal to try out and Tucker pointed at the man and warned him not to say a word), Junior was saying that he saw Wash pick up Theta and his cousin Delta from school a couple of times that week (Junior got really excited when he heard Wash talking about Pokemon with Theta and Delta), and on the weekend Wash had to stop in quickly to the club that he worked with to have a talk with one of their bouncers (the big guy named Maine who didn’t talk at all).

It was getting to the point where Tucker couldn’t open his eyes without thinking he saw a head of wheat blond hair and freckles turn around the corner—he _knew_ Washington wasn’t there, though sometimes (a lot of the times) he wished it were him. The guy was good looking and Tucker _liked_ sex alright; he hasn’t had sex in a long, long time—not since Junior was conceived actually; back when he still had breasts and would bind… back before the surgery.

Sex and gender had never made an impact on Tucker in him choosing his partners, though not everyone shared his ideals in that regard. What if Wash was straight? What if he only liked dick? Tucker frowned at the boiling pot of water—he needed to try still right? The nagging _what-if_ in his mind was going to drive him up the wall!

So during the time between putting the pasta in the boiling water, listening to Caboose talk about cartoons to Junior in the front room, and putting the sauce on to simmer Tucker figured out a plan to get David Washington’s phone number.

\--

Okay, so it wasn’t the greatest of ways but it worked. There was a gas leak at Junior’s school and they were shutting it down for the rest of a day (as well as the afterschool program) and Tucker’s boss was a douche bag who wouldn’t let him leave work but he _did_ allow Tucker to call around and make up plans for his son.

Still, he was a douche bag but Tucker _needed_ this job so he wasn’t going to push anymore than that.

He called Church who called Tex who called North who called both Wash and the emergency school line set up in these situations. That was how Washington got his number and was able to contact him, “so you want me to pick Junior up.” The man’s voice sounded deeper on the phone and Tucker couldn’t help but gulp at the sound.

“My boss is being a dick and he’s not letting me leave and I can’t walk out or he’d fire me or something stupid like that,” Tucker quickly explained, he sat on the back steps of the bistro with his hand covering half of his face. He just wanted to go home, get Junior, and maybe order a pizza.

“Do you want me to feed him? Any allergies?”

Tucker shook his head, “no. No allergies, and if you want to. I’m going to be done at 4:30 and that’s if the next guy shows up on time. Like, if you guys are going to be eating around that time I’m not going to argue with you feeding him,” he pushed out a tired laugh. “I was honestly just going to order a pizza.”

Wash huffed, “If you can get to the house before 5:30 I’ll make sure there’s enough food for you too.”

Tucker pulled the phone from his ear and stared at the time ticking by—he placed the phone to his chest and whispered, “Oh my god why is he so great?” He quickly returned the phone to his ear and replied as smoothly as possible. “Well, if _you_ want to. I’m not one to turn down a date—” oh he did not just call it a DATE! “I mean, well—ah shit.”

There was silence on the other end and Tucker stuffed his knuckles between his teeth and bit—shitshitshit, shit fuck! “I think I could do a bit better than that for a date,” the man on the other line finally replied, his voice lowering as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear. “But, we can talk about that later when you pick Junior up. I’ll text you the address.”

Tucker could feel the heat spread out along his cheeks and neck, “thanks Wash. I’ll see you guys later.”

\--

Junior was grinning ear to ear, little fingers signing things so quickly that Tucker was having problems picking out what he was saying. **Can I come back?** Was one of the things he signed. **I don’t want to leave!** Was another. The rest was just a blur of hand signs before he hid back into the pillow and blanket fort that the children had gone and turned the living room into.

Tucker could spot three heads of blond hair, one of light brown, and his own son’s curly black hair.

It was a big house in the better end of the city, nice rich wood flooring and matching furniture colours (or at least complimentary in colour and theme). The brown haired man with a large angry looking scar who had answered the door with a goofy grin sighed behind him, “Honestly Delta, your sisters wanted you to have a tea party with them and Theta.”

The brown haired boy roughly two years older than Junior poked his head out of the blanket covering what Tucker could only assume was the door, “Uncle Wash said that forts were better than tea parties. Maine agreed.”

The man beside him only rubbed a hand down his face when the child ducked back into the fort. “I’m York—before I forget to introduce myself and _someone_ gets sensitive and say that I lack manners—I’m the father to three of those monkeys running wild in the living room. I’m also Wash’s BROTHER!” He shouted towards the kitchen.

“You’re only my brother-IN-LAW!” Wash yelled back and the brown haired man chuckled, waving him to follow him into the kitchen. Wash was piling dishes into the dishwasher, the sink filling with warm water and bubbles. The blond glanced up at the two and smiled, “hey Tucker how was work?”

The man shrugged catching the not-so-subtle wink York threw Wash’s way before leaving the two alone in the kitchen. “My boss is a dick, but other than that it was pretty slow—alright, no jerks to mention other than that.”

Wash closed the dish washer with a press of his foot before turning to the double door’ed fridge and pulling a metal bowl and some fancy bread from the fridge. “Sorry it’s not something like… five stared or anything, but Theta got it in the kids heads that they wanted to watch me chop vegetables and well… they said they’d eat whatever I cut up.”

Tucker glanced around the muscular arm to get a look into the bowl—it wasn’t the most prettiest of mixes and after getting a good sniff in on what was in the bowl it peeked his interest. “What is it?”

“Chicken, a little bit of pepper, onions, celery, a bit of bacon and tomatoes all covered in mayo—easiest and tastiest chicken sandwich I’ve ever had the pleasure of discovering back in middle school.” He spooned out the mixture and lathered it onto the whole wheat bread slice before adding the top bread and cutting in half. “Trust me; it doesn’t look the greatest but its good.”

Tucker wasn’t going to complain, he was getting free dinner after this guy who not only picked up his son from school but fed him (fed him vegetables too!) as well. Just stick a red bow on this man and Tucker was ready to take him home! He took a trial bite of the sandwich and nearly moaned, “What did you say was in this again?” He took another bite, this time filling with mouth with as much as he possibly could.

“I cooked the chicken in a balsamic vinaigrette, cut that up, then threw in some celery, tomatoes and a little bit of onions, some bacon, then added a bunch of mayo and like a pinch of pepper.” The blond leaned back against the counter, hand rubbing up and down the length of his arm. “It’s honestly nothing special, I kind of felt a little lazy after chasing around five kids today.”

Tucker wanted to date this guy—throw him over his shoulder and ride off on his cock and into the sunset. “Do you want to go on a date sometime?”

Thinking back on it, Tucker really should’ve waited until he swallowed the food in his mouth before asking him out… but, well—shit happens right?

At least Wash agreed (even if his nose and forehead was wrinkled in disgust as tried to look away from the half chewed food in Tucker’s mouth).


End file.
